The Elemental Warriors
by Molly Grace 16
Summary: Four girls are brought together by fate. Can they defeat an evil as old as the earth itself? Perhaps with the help of the Turtles.
1. Prologue

**A/N: I do not own TMNT. If I did, the guys would have totally gotten girlfriends. I'm not exactly the most regular updater, so try to bear with me. Homework comes first after all.**

Prologue

Two thousand years ago, a great evil plagued the land. It corrupted the hearts of man and sucked the life from the land. It was called Yakom. In order to battle Yakom's darkness, the land itself bestowed upon four warriors the gifts to command the four great forces of nature: fire, water, air, and earth. They became known as Tadashi the Righteous, Kaiya the Compassionate, Akira the Wise, and Tora the Strong. Together the four warriors fought against Yakom's dark power. After a great battle on the longest night of the year, they were able to seal Yakom deep inside the Earth at the cost of their own lives. However, before he was sealed away, Yakom made an ominous prediction.

"_You may think you have defeated me for now, but this seal will not last forever. One day, I will break free of this imprisonment, and unleash a reign of destruction across this land the likes of which you mortal fools cannot possibly begin to comprehend."_

And so, the spirits of the four warriors remained on Earth; silently guarding humanity against the evil that is Yakom. They wait for the time that his seal will begin to fail, and they will transfer their gifts to four worthy souls to become their successors as the elemental warriors.

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_16 Years Ago_

A shudder passed through the earth. It was subtle, so subtle in fact that only the most spiritually aware would have even been aware of it. But for the spirits of the elemental warriors, it was the first sign of Yakom's seal beginning to weaken. So on the longest day of that year, the four reached out with their minds to search for new souls that were compatible with their own. They searched for souls that were not only compatible, but also worthy of wielding the land's gifts.

Eventually, they found four newborns in America that all desperately clung to life. Only two were near each other and it was then that the four friends realized it would be many years before they saw each other again.

"My friends," Tadashi began before he made his journey, having the farthest to go, "I know my successor is the farthest away, but I am sure that fate will find a way for us to meet again."

"Farewell, my brother," Kaiya said as she embraced her sibling, "Be safe, and you as well, Tora."

"I will be fine," the warrior of earth replied haughtily, "Just be glad that it is Tadashi and me who are going out on our own. I would not trust you or Akira by yourselves." The warriors laughed as Akira put on a look of false hurt.

"Oh, Tora," she said as she held her hand over her heart, "you wound me so. Really though, try not to get into too much trouble before we find each other again. Technically, our spirits will be dormant until our successors all meet up again." An air of silence overcame the four.

"Well, until we meet again," Tadashi said as he held out his right hand. "United as one…"

"In body...," Tora said laying her hand on top of Tadashi's.

"In mind…," Akira said laying her hand on Tora's.

"In heart…," Kaiya said putting her hand on Akira's.

"And in spirit," Tadashi finished.

"May we always fight together," the spoke in unison and their spirits flew off to the bodies of their chosen successors. The spirits of the warriors of water and air went to a Manhattan hospital ICU ward, the spirit of the warrior of earth went to the emergency room of a Stanton Island hospital, and the spirit of the warrior of fire went to a small family run emergency clinic in New Jersey. The spirits of the four elemental warriors empowered the four infants with the will to live, and the millennium old spirits entered their dormancy of what would come to be sixteen years.

Meanwhile, in the sewers underneath New York City, a recently mutated rat was reading a Renaissance book he fished out of a storm drain and was being continually drawn to four names in particular: Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, and Raphael.

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Present Day

In the lair of the teenage mutant ninja turtles, the four brothers were uncharacteristically anxious. They didn't really have a need to be. They had defeated the true shredder ten months ago when they were chosen by the ninja tribunal; the purple dragons had been relatively quiet; and Casey had even plucked up the courage to ask April to marry him.

It was a short engagement and a fairly small ceremony. Neither April nor Casey had a large family and all their close friends were easy to get a hold of. They even got Professor Honeycutt (the fugitoid) to act as the Justice of the Peace. The two were happy together and had recently had their six month anniversary. Although, it was a conversation that the new Mr. and Mrs. Jones had recently had that made the turtles so anxious.

At a certain point in Casey and April's marriage, the subject of children eventually came up as a topic. Casey was surprisingly comfortable with the thought of being a father. April wanted to have children, no question about it, but she questioned whether they were ready to take care of a child. After many late night talks, the two eventually agreed to a compromise: foster care. The two registered to become a foster home and readily awaited their first child.

After the guys heard about their friends' decision, they were really happy for them at first, until Donny mentioned that they wouldn't be able to freely visit April and Casey with a strange kid living with them. They would have to be a lot more careful when it came to seeing their closest friends now because there would always be someone who didn't know the ninja turtles existed in the apartment. And having a limit on how often they could see their two closest friends really sucked shell.

**So there's the prologue. I don't actually know when Splinter first named the turtles. It was just something I thought would be a nice fit. My story takes place in the universe of the '03 series. I'm not quite sure how many years it spanned, but since there was never an episode that specifically showed the guys turning 16, I'm having my story take place a little while after the 'Ninja Tribunal' thing. I'm kind of cutting out 'Fast Forward' and 'Back to the Sewer' and going my own way.**


	2. A Fiery Youth

**A/N: I do not own TMNT. If I did, the guys would have totally gotten girlfriends. I'm not exactly the most regular updater, so try to bear with me. Homework comes first after all. Also, quick note: It might be a while before I introduce the guys. There will be some pairings, but I'll let you guys guess who ends up with whom.**

**Chapter 1:** A Fiery Youth

Bridget Youngblood is what some people would call a problem child. Sure, most foster kids have a few quirks here and there, but it really takes a certain something to be classified as a 'problem child'. For one thing, she's been in the program for six years and has never stayed with a family for more than a few weeks.

At first, she got sent back because no one wanted to deal with a kid that required therapy. Bridget could admit it. She's been to a number of therapists between the ages of 10 and 12. It also didn't help that she got into a lot of fights at school. She always had the same excuse when an authority figure asked her why she was fighting.

"The kid was a bully and deserved every punch."

Bridget didn't think she was a problem child. In her opinion, she had an overactive sense of justice. If there was one thing she hated, it was a bully and she just couldn't stand seeing kids get picked on. It wasn't like she planned for it to lead to violence. It just happened.

This was mostly what she was sulking over as her social worker drove her through the slushy streets of Manhattan on the way to her new foster family. The weather always got cruddy like this in January. The family was a couple of first timers. Bridget didn't really pay attention. Her social worker always told her the same thing anyway: shape up, don't fight, etc. _Honestly, you think she'd come up with something more original after fifty times._

The car stopped in front of a place called Second Time Around. It looked like an antique shop. Bridget let out a heavy sigh, grabbed her duffle bag and backpack out of the back seat, and followed her case worker inside. Maybe if she was lucky there would be some cool junk to look at. The store was empty except for a young woman working the cash register. She looked at them both and smiled.

"Hello, I'm April Jones. How can I help you?" Bridget gave the woman who was apparently her new caregiver a quick once over. She seemed friendly enough. Her red hair was tied up in a messy bun with some strands falling loose. She was wearing a purple shirt and brown cargo pants and her green eyes were filled with kindness. _At least I know she's not in it for the money._

"Yes, I am Miss Pensky. I'm from child services. This is Bridget Youngblood, the child you will be fostering." She gestured to Bridget who gave a half-hearted wave and an awkward smile. "There are just a few last minute documents that need to be signed and everything should be good to go."

"All right, my apartment is upstairs. Bridget can look around while we do that." She led them to a staircase at the back of the store. "Uh… My husband Casey is out at the moment. Is he going to need to be here too?"

"No, only one signature is required, Mrs. Jones." Bridget took a good look around when they reached the apartment. It had a modern style, but the colors gave it a homey feel. There wasn't an ashtray or beer bottle in sight. She set her duffle bag by the door but kept her backpack on.

"Hey, where's the bathroom?" April seemed a little startled at first to hear her speak, but then smiled and gave her directions. She offered a quick thank you and made her way to the bathroom. Once there, she locked the door and gazed at her reflection. Bridget looked a lot like her mom. They both had the same raven black hair, but Bridget had been styling hers in a pixie cut since middle school. They both had the same naturally tan skin, long nose, high cheekbones, and full lips.

All in all, Bridget was practically the spitting image of her mother except for her eyes. Her eyes were a striking emerald green and Bridget had been complemented on them all her life. When she was younger, she used to love her eye color as well, but now she hated it. She had her father's eyes. She knew that now, and she couldn't stand it.

It took a large amount of Bridget's willpower not to shatter the mirror there and then, but she held herself back and focused on what she came in here to do. She opened the medicine cabinet and began scanning the contents. Bridget learned early on that you could tell a lot about people by what they kept in their medicine cabinets.

She didn't find any particular cause for worry. It was pretty standard: toothpaste, some aspirin, muscle relaxant cream (_probably the husband's_), a make-up bag, and some Ace wrap bandages; nothing to suggest that these people were nutcases or sociopaths. Bridget had met her fair share of both in her young life and had no desire to live with either, again. There were a few more toothbrushes than she expected though. There were six in all: pink, brown, blue, purple, orange, and red. She shrugged it off and made a note to put some masking tape on the handle of her own toothbrush, also red, so she wouldn't get them mixed up and went back into the living room.

April had just finished the last of the paperwork and Miss Pensky was on her way out the door. She said a brisk goodbye to Bridget and left; leaving April and her new ward in a somewhat awkward silence. "Soooooo…," Bridget started, breaking the silence, "what does this husband of yours do for a living?"

"Well," the redhead went back to the kitchen area and started making something, "sometimes he helps me out at the shop, but mostly he works down at the docks across town. He works nights." _I didn't know the docks had a night crew._ "I'm making some tea. Would you like some?"

"Yeah, tea sounds good. So, what do you do, April?"

"Aside from running the shop downstairs, I sell rare antiquities to collectors mostly. It makes pretty good money." April poured the tea, and Bridget took a seat across from her new foster mother at the table. "What about you, Bridget? What do you like to do?"

"I, uh, well… I like tinkering with cars and motorcycles and stuff like that." April gave her new ward a wry smile.

"I think you and Casey will get along just fine then. He has a motorcycle that he loves messing with." Bridget's head shot up.

"Really?" The redhead nodded as she drank her tea. "Cool, Do you think he'd let me ride on it sometime? Not a lot of my foster dads had motorcycles. And if they did, I was never allowed near them."

"He might if you ask him. Now, there are some ground rules you're going to need to follow." She motioned for April to continue. "I'd like you back in the apartment by ten on weeknights and midnight on weekends. Let me know where you're going when you leave or tell Casey if I'm not around. I'd like you to help out in the store and around the apartment sometimes. Oh, and call us if you're somewhere you don't know after dark. A lot of weirdoes come out when the sun goes down."

"You mean like the Purple Dragons?" April blinked.

"Yeah, how do you know about the Purple Dragons anyway?" she asked nervously.

"One of my foster homes was in the Bronx a few years back. A boy in my middle school class had an older brother who dropped out and joined up with them. He lived on my street. I think his parents kicked him out when they saw the tattoo. He was a good guy until he got mixed up with them. It was a real waste," she muttered the last part to herself.

"Well, Casey doesn't have much love for the Dragons. They've been at odds ever since I met him." Bridget smirked.

"That's another thing we have in common then. If there's one thing I hate, it's a bully. Anyone who thinks they can get away with picking on someone weaker than them deserves a good punch in the jaw and then some." April couldn't help but give a grin. "Hey, what's with the face? Did I say something funny?"

"You just remind me of a friend of mine, that's all. He acts cold, but he'll always try to protect those weaker than him." Bridget rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "Come on, let me show you your room, and you can unpack."

The room wasn't half bad. There was a double bed in one corner with green blankets and white sheets. There was a nightstand next to the bed with a small lamp. There was a dresser and a medium sized desk on the opposite wall. The walls were an off-white tan color. The fire escape could be seen from the window. It was a little plain, but it had potential. April left her to unpack while she got dinner started.

Bridget didn't have much in the way of possessions. Her duffle bag was filled with clothes she'd bought from second hand stores and clearance racks. All of her important things were in her backpack anyway. She pulled them out and laid them on her bed to look at them. At first they didn't look like much: an old laptop, an iPod, a plastic bag full of lighters, and a picture in an old frame that looked like it was made by a five year old; but to Bridget, these items all had precious memories behind them.

The laptop belonged to Bridget's mother Tanya, and it had been with Bridget at every foster home she lived in. It didn't have much on it. The most important things were pictures and a set of password protected journals. There was one for every foster home Bridget had lived in and she updated it religiously.

The iPod was a reminder of one of her nicer foster families. She got it during the first Christmas Bridget actually spent with a foster family instead of in a group home. That family had been really nice. They didn't give her up because they didn't want her. The wife had gotten pregnant and they couldn't afford to keep a foster kid around with a new baby on the way. Bridget smiled sadly as she put it on the desk next to the laptop.

The lighters were a hobby she picked up around middle school. Bridget couldn't really explain it, but looking at the little flames a lighter gave off always seemed to make her feel better. She had about fifty in all and she was always on the lookout for new ones to add to her collection. She arranged them meticulously on her dresser and made a note to ask April if she could put a shelf in.

Bridget handled the picture frame like it would shatter if she held it too tight. The frame really was made by a five year old. Bridget had made it for her mom one year for Mother's day. The picture was from a 'Mommy/Daughter' day Bridget's grade school had set up. They were in an ice cream shop. Bridget had ice cream all over her face her mom was close to tears she was laughing so hard. One of the other moms had taken the picture and given it to Ms. Youngblood to keep. Bridget blinked away the tears that threatened to fall and placed the picture on her nightstand.

She was pulled out of her memories by a very loud, very masculine voice making noise out front. "Hey, April, I'm back. Did dat kid get dropped off yet?" Bridget walked down the hall but kept hidden to see who was talking. He was tall and muscular with straight black hair going to his shoulders. His deep blue eyes showed a deep kindness and protective nature, but she also noticed various scars on his arms. _Well, April did say he hated Purple Dragons. He probably wails on them when he can._

"Yeah, Casey, she's here," April said not even looking up from what she was stirring on the stove. "She seems like a good kid. You two have quite a bit in common actually."

"Like what," he said with this blank look on his face. Bridget chuckled inwardly. _Guess he's not the sharpest knife in the drawer._

"She told me she likes working on motorcycles. Maybe you could let her help when you work on yours." Bridget braced herself for the rejection that was sure to follow.

"Sure, I don't see why not," he said shrugging like it was no big deal. "Hey, maybe we could take her up to the farmhouse sometime and I could teach her to ride one." In just those two sentences, Casey had marked his place as one of Bridget's favorite foster fathers. Without thinking, the excited teen rushed out and nearly tackled Casey in a hug. "Whoa there, where's the fire?" April turned and smiled at the display.

"I think she heard you, Casey," she said with a laugh. Bridget let go of Casey and rubbed her head sheepishly. "Bridget, this is my husband Casey. Casey, this is our new foster daughter. Bridget, would you like to help me with dinner?"

"Well, I would, April," she said as she tried to look anywhere but the kitchen, "but I can't cook very well. I always end up burning everything." Casey laughed at the teen's blushing face and ruffled her hair affectionately.

"It's no big deal, Kid, I can't cook either. In fact, I've burned food so many times April says I'm not allowed to touch the stove anymore." He grabbed a jacket from the coat rack. "Come on, Bridge, I'll show you my bike out back." She couldn't get out the door fast enough.

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At first, April had been anxious about having Bridget stay with them, but those doubts were quickly erased after the first week. April could barely even recognize her as the quiet and distant teenager she was when they first met. She was still quiet, but it was more that Bridget didn't feel the need to fill silence with unnecessary noise.

Casey had taken to Bridget, or Bridge as he'd started calling her, almost immediately. He said he saw her as the little sister he never had. The two would spend hours working on Casey's motorcycle together and talking about anything that came to mind. It didn't take long for Bridget to find out about Casey's late night vigilante activities. April still laughs when she thinks about how she found out.

_Flashback_

_Casey was getting back in from a patrol with the turtles. It was almost midnight, so he didn't expect anyone to still be up. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a lamp turned on. Bridget was sitting in an armchair with a very accusing look on her face. Casey suddenly felt like he did when his mom caught him sneaking back in from a party she told him not to go to._

"_Hello, Casey," her voice was calm, but very cold, "where were you?"He struggled to remember the cover story he and April came up with._

"_I- I was at work. Down at the docks."_

"_Cut the crap, Casey," she interrupted. Casey stiffened. Her voice seethed with anger. "The docks close at 11. It doesn't take an hour to get there from here, and you left at 10." Casey wasn't entirely sure why, but at the moment, he was very afraid of his foster daughter. "Now, I'm going to ask you a question, and you are going to give me an honest answer. Do you understand?" Casey was too scared to speak so he nodded. "All right, are you cheating on April?"_

_Whatever Casey had been expecting her to ask, that most certainly wasn't it. The very thought of it was so ridiculous; he couldn't hold back the laugh as he doubled over. "Hahahahahaha, me…hahaha… cheat on April… haha… dat's rich… haha a riot." Bridget wasn't amused._

"_Be quiet. You might wake April." That shut him up real quick. A tired April was a scary April. "So, if you aren't cheating on her, where are you going every night?" The look on her face said she wasn't going to leave until she got an answer._

"_Well, me and some friends of mine patrol the streets and when someone's makin' trouble, we stop 'em. You know, the little stuff dat the police don't get to." Bridget raised an eyebrow._

"_You mean… like a vigilante?" Casey nodded. "Does April know you do this every night?" He shrugged._

"_Yeah, I mean, it was her idea to use the docks as a cover story."_

"_I see." She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, it doesn't look like you're lying, but I'm going to ask April about it in the morning just to be sure. Goodnight, Casey." Then she went to her room; leaving a very confused Casey standing in the living room._

_End Flashback_

The only thing that really worried April was Bridget never really seemed to leave the house. Sure, she helped April get groceries and went on errands for her when Casey was busy, but other than that she stayed holed up in the house, or more specifically the roof.

Bridget could reach the fire escape from her bedroom window, so she could climb up to the roof with no problems. April wasn't really sure what the girl did up there, but whatever it was, it was enough to occupy Bridget's time for hours on end. Normally, this would cause April some worries about their new daughter's well being, but she figured how much trouble could a girl get into on a rooftop, really?

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Bridget grinned when she heard the loud _smack_ her boots made when they hit the rooftop. Nothing calmed her down more than a lengthy run around the city rooftops. Bridget had started free running not long after she went into the system because her caretakers were always telling her to "channel her energy _constructively_". So, she picked up free running from one of the other kids at a group home she lived at for a few weeks. It turned out she was a natural at it. She got to run around and do stunts of questionable safety, and it got her out of the house. It was win-win for everyone.

Bridget stopped on the roof of an apartment building to get her bearings. She was about ten minutes away from the shop. She was about to head back when she heard a scream that was abruptly cut off. She ran to the other side of the rooftop and saw a girl being grabbed by some street punks. She felt her blood boiling in her veins when she realized the girl couldn't have been older than herself. She climbed down the fire escape to listen to what they were saying.

"Come on, Sweetheart," the thug closest to the girl said, "don't be like that."

"Yeah," one wearing his pants WAY too low added, "we just want to have a little fun." Bridget felt her fists clench. Nothing got people on to Bridget's 'Must Kill in the Most Painful Way Imaginable' list faster than trying to rape an innocent girl. The girl squirmed and looked like she was trying to collapse in on herself.

"P-please, j-just leave m-me alone. I-I don't w-want any t-trouble." The third one sneered and pulled a knife out of his pocket. We got real close to the girl and lifted her chin with the blade. Bridget didn't have to look at the girl to know she was terrified. Her stuttering gave it away easily enough.

"Well, that's just too bad, isn't it? You really should have thought of that before you walked through Purple Dragon territory." That was the straw that broke the camel's back. These bastards had the gall to harass some girl in broad daylight and think they could get away with it. _Not while I'm around, they're not._

"Hey," she yelled from her perch. All three turned to look at her. "Why don't you punks pick on somebody your own size?" She didn't give them a chance to respond as she jumped down and kicked the first guy in the head. He was out cold before he hit the ground. The low pants guy came at her next. Bridget smirked. _Too easy._

"Heh, You're gonna regret messin' with us, Girly. Don't you know who we are?" He came at her with a clumsy right hook. Bridget grabbed the incoming arm, pivoted swiftly, and elbowed him in the nose. She released his right arm only to punch him in the stomach. She dug in deep and, like the first guy, he was out cold before he met the pavement. _Two down and one to go._

She turned to face the guy with the knife. The punk was shamelessly leering at her. Had Bridget been any other girl, a guy looking at her like that might have made her afraid. But she was Bridget, so it just made her angry. She glared at the punk with unmasked disgust.

"You know," she said in a low but clear voice, "guys like you, really piss me off." The guy just sneered again.

"Oh, guys like me. You mean devilishly handsome?" he said in an oily voice. Bridget had to stifle her urge to gag.

"Pft, hardly, I mean guys who can't take 'no' for an answer, force themselves on an innocent girl, and still think they're God's gift to women." She ran at him; aiming a left hook for his head. He dodged and backed away. Bridget noticed he was better than the other two; smarter too. He held that blade like he knew how to use it.

"Darling, you've got me all wrong," he said with a knowing look in his eyes that made Bridget very suspicious. "I don't think I'm God's gift to women." He came at her faster than she expected. She barely managed to dodge; still getting nicked on the cheek. He swung around and kicked her into a wall. He pinned her shoulders and held the knife to her throat. "I just see what I want, and take it. And right now," he lowered his head to whisper in her ear, "I want you."

Suddenly, he gasped, went forward a few times, and fell sideways to the ground. Bridget's eyes widened when she saw the girl getting attacked standing with her fists raised. Bridget gave him a swift kick in the head to make sure he was unconscious, and then walked over to the girl. She was a few inches shorter than Bridget, barely five foot four. Her light brown hair was in a French braid that went down her back. She was nervously fiddling with the green cardigan she was wearing, her eyes downcast.

"Hey, um… thanks for the save back there, Kid," Bridget held out her hand in greeting, "I'm Bridget." The girl shook her hand and slowly lifted face to meet Bridget's eyes. Silver-grey eyes locked with Bridget's emerald gaze.

"I'm Rose. Th-thank you for s-saving me." Bridget scratched the back of her head sheepishly.

"It's no big deal, really. Those guys got what was coming to them. By the way, what did you do to that one guy? It was pretty cool." Rose blushed.

"I-It w-wasn't much. I j-just hit a few p-pressure points." Bridget laughed.

"Well, whatever it was, it did the trick," Bridget put her arm around the smaller girl. "Come on. I'll take you home. We don't want you getting jumped again."

"Oh, wait. Bridget, you're bleeding." She put a hand to her face, her fingers came away red.

"I guess I am. No worries, I'll stick a bandage on it later. We have to get you home first. So, which way are we going? 'Cause I don't know." Rose let out a giggle.

"It's this way." They walked down the street in companionable silence. "Hey Bridget, why were you on the fire escape?"

**There's the first chapter. In case you're wondering why Bridget and Rose aren't in school, it is still winter break. It will probably be a few more chapters before any of my OCs meet the turtles. I'll get to it though. Up next, we learn a little more about Rose, and depending on how long I feel like making the chapter, I might introduce the third OC. I appreciate reviews because they help make my writing better.**


	3. The Fragile Flower

**A/N: I do not own TMNT. If I did, the guys would have totally gotten girlfriends. I'm not exactly the most regular updater, so try to bear with me. Homework comes first after all. There will be some pairings, but I'll let you guys guess who ends up with whom. There will be more about Rose this chapter, and I might introduce one of the last two OC's.**

**Chapter 2:** The Fragile Flower

Rose led her new friend back to the Townhouse she lived in with her mother and grandmother. With any luck, her mom would still be at work and would never have to know about the little incident in the alley. Her mom had enough to worry about as it was. There was no need to make her worry even more than she already does. When Rose stopped in front of her house, she caught the sight of Bridget's jaw dropping out of the corner of her eye.

"You **live** here?" she asked in disbelief. Rose nodded shyly. She hated drawing attention to herself. She was so uncomfortable in the spotlight. "Well are we just going to stand here, or what?" Rose jumped a bit and scurried to unlock the front door.

Once she was inside, she visibly became more comfortable. The décor of the first floor was a collaboration of her mother and grandmother's tastes. Her mom mostly used this floor when she was entertaining, so it had a professional look to it. The color scheme, at her grandmother's insistence, consisted mostly of greens and browns giving the room an earthy feel. Her grandmother always insisted that even though they lived in the city that was no reason to lose their connection with the earth.

Rose heard the door shut and turned to see Bridget eyeing the room curiously. Her new friend was interesting. Despite only wearing a hooded jacket over her tank top, she hadn't seemed the least bit cold in the chilly January weather. Rose was wearing thermal underwear and her cardigan, leggings, and boots were lined with fleece, so she didn't have to worry. Rose was never really a fan of winter. It made her sleepy and all the plants were either dead or hibernating. She liked spring the best.

"Br-Bridget," the black haired girl looked her way, "I-I can clean that cut for you in the kitchen. I-It's this way." She led Bridget to the kitchen and took the first-aid kid out of the cabinet. She quickly cleaned the dried blood of her friend's face and the area around the cut. She heard Bridget give a soft hiss when the disinfectant hit her cut, but otherwise she was silent the whole way through.

After sticking a band-aid on the cut, she took a step back to admire her handiwork. With the band-aid on her cheek, Bridget almost looked like she was part of a gang. Rose swallowed a giggle at the thought. She could already tell the black haired girl probably wouldn't appreciate being compared to a gang member.

"So what do your parents do?" Bridget said still looking around. "I mean, they must have a decent job to afford a place like this." Rose looked down at the floor. It was always uncomfortable to talk about her family.

"Just my mom actually; she's a surgeon. My dad died in a car accident when I was born." She braced herself for the pitying look she always got when people found out. She hated when people pitied her. It made her feel weaker than she already was.

"Well, that sucks." Rose's head snapped to look at Bridget so fast, it was a wonder she didn't give herself whiplash. There was no pity in her expression; she wasn't even looking at her. She was staring at the far wall with a faraway look in her eyes. "I grew up without a dad too, but at least yours had a good reason for not being there." Rose was about to ask what she meant when they heard someone coming down the stairs.

"Rosemunda, are you home, Child?" An elderly woman walked into the kitchen. She was small; only about as tall as Rose, but there was a quality about her that made her appear larger than she was. A think knitted shawl wrapped around her shoulders and covered the top part of her dark purple dress. Around her neck was a necklace that looked like an arrowhead. Her thick hair was white with age and braided around her head like a crown. Her eyes were the same shade of silver gray as her granddaughter, but possessed a wisdom that only came with age. Her face was wrinkled with laugh lines around her eyes and mouth, some more recent than others. When the woman saw Bridget, her mouth turned up in a benevolent smile. "Well now, if I'd known my Rosemunda had company, I'd have started a pot of tea." Rose flushed about three different shades of red.

"H-Hello, Granny, this is my n-new friend Bridget. I w-wasn't really expecting to have her over. Bridget, this is my g-grandmother Agatha Blackwood."

"You can just call me Granny or Aggie, Bridget. I don't want to hear any of that 'Mrs. Blackwood' nonsense. Do you hear me? It makes me feel old." Bridget smirked and nodded. Aggie eyes the black haired girl carefully for a minute then smiled. "Thank you for keeping my granddaughter safe, Bridget. You are always welcome here." The girls felt their jaws drop in surprise at the old woman's statement.

"G-Granny, Y-you knew?" Rose stuttered. Bridget was partly shocked and partly impressed. Aggie sent the two a do-you-think-I'm-stupid look.

"Rosemunda Riche Blackwood, I am old, but I am neither blind nor stupid." Aggie didn't yell, but the force behind her words was enough to send shivers down the two girls' spines. "I can smell the disinfectant on that girl and you left the first aid kit on the counter." Bridget face-palmed. "I know you are entitled to keep some things to yourself. But if you are going to lie to me, at least do a better job of getting away with it." Rose nodded. Bridget just grinned.

"Aggie, I think you and I are going to get along just fine." Bridget glanced at the clock. "Oh, shi-shoot, I have to get back to April's to start on my chores." She was heading for the door when Aggie caught her arm in a surprisingly strong grip.

"Not so fast, Child, let me fix you a cup of tea before you go. It will keep you warm on your way back." Rose tried not to let the amusement show on her face as Bridget tried to get her arm back.

"No, that's okay, really. I don't really get cold, and my foster parents don't know where I am. They might get worried."

"Nonsense, we have a phone right there. Rosemunda, start up the pot please. The red pouch on the top shelf will do nicely I think." Rose knew there was no point arguing with her grandmother, so she simply got to work on the tea.

Bridget sighed and dialed the antique store's number into the phone. She was suddenly very glad she had taken the time to commit the number to memory. On the third ring, someone answered.

"Hello." Bridget thanked whatever universal power that was listening that it was April who picked up and not Casey. He might forget to tell April if she told him. She loved the guy to death, but he was kind of a bonehead.

"Hey, April, it's Bridget."

"Bridget, I thought you were on the roof. Where are you? Are you okay? Do you need me to come and get you? What happened?"

"April," Bridget snapped. She took a deep breath to calm herself. There was no point in getting mad at April. She was just worried. "Yes, I was on the roof. I go up there to free run. I saw this girl getting jumped in an alley a few blocks from the shop by some Purple Dragons. I uh… persuaded them to leave her alone and I walked her home. Her name is Rose. You'd like her. I'm at her house right now. It's a Townhouse on Peach Street. I'm like… ten minutes away maybe. Rose's grandma insisted I stay for a cup of tea, but after that I'll come back. Okay?" She heard April sigh into the phone.

"All right, just be careful on your way back. And we will be having a discussion about that jumping rooftops thing when you get home. I should be starting on dinner by the time you get home. Bye." Bridget groaned as she thought of the lecture to come. She sat down at the table just as the kettle started to boil.

"This is some of my special tea," Aggie said as she poured it into three glasses. "I hope you like it Bridget." Bridget thanked her and took a long drink. Hot beverages never really seemed to bother her. "What do you think, Child?"

"It's not bad, but it's got an interesting aftertaste. I can't place it." Bridget tried to describe the taste because she knew it would bug her until she remembered.

"See, Granny, I told you I wasn't the only one who noticed the aftertaste." Rose looked at Bridget. "I always thought it tasted weird too." Neither girl noticed the knowing smile on the old woman's face. Despite the comments on the taste, both girls finished the tea relatively quickly. Rose walked Bridget to the door. "Br-Bridget, I-I was wondering if you were doing anything to-tomorrow." Bridget looked back at the poor stuttering girl and gave her a regretful smile.

"Actually I am. April is taking me to buy school supplies tomorrow. I'm starting at Carson High on Monday." Rose's eyes shot up in surprise.

"I-I go to C-Carson."

"Cool, I guess that means we'll be classmates then. See you on Monday, Rose." Bridget closed the door behind her and started sprinting back to April's place. Rose walked back to the kitchen and started washing the cups.

"Rosemunda," Rose turned to let her grandmother know she heard, "I quite like your new friend. Why don't you invite her to celebrate Imbolc₁ with us next month?" Rose almost dropped the cup in shock. Her family didn't belong to any organized religion. Rather, Aggie dabbled in some Pagan and Wicca beliefs and they celebrated that. It had been a source of constant bullying in Rose's younger years. She had been lucky enough to find two good friends who didn't think she was weird, but she didn't want to risk driving Bridget away.

"G-Granny, s-she m-might have p-plans." She knew it was a feeble excuse, but she couldn't think of anything better.

"You won't know if you don't ask. Rosemunda, look at me, Child." Rose turned to her grandmother and saw she had _that_ look about her. The look that made her forget her granny was almost 90; the look that made it seem the old woman could get a mountain to do cartwheels; and coincidently, the same look her grandmother gave her when she told Rose to invite her two best friends over for a sleepover back in eighth grade. "I know you are scared, my little Rose, but I can feel it in these old bones of mine. She will not abandon you."

"H-How do you k-know that?" Rose trembled as she fought to keep the tears in. Aggie gave a sagely smile and pulled her granddaughter into a hug.

"It is not her way. She could have just as easily left you to your fate when you were in danger before, but she did not. I see goodness in her, much like I see in your other two friends, and much like I see in you." That was all it took to break the dam. Rose sobbed into her grandmother's shawl. She hated feeling so weak all the time. She hated that she was too scared to make friends or talk without stuttering. She hated that she let her fears rule her life.

After she cried herself out, her grandmother told her she had an errand to run and would be back later to start on dinner. Rose put the clean dishes away and went upstairs to do what she always did when she was upset, or lonely, or bored, or any mood really; she played music.

There were three floors in all in Rose's house. The first floor was the main floor with the living room, kitchen, dining room, and Rose's mother's office. The third floor was originally an attic, but Aggie had turned the floor into her bedroom, bathroom, and a place to practice her rituals where she wouldn't be bothered and wouldn't bother anyone else. The second floor had Rose's bedroom, her mother's bedroom, and bathrooms for both of them, a guestroom, a small library Rose visited frequently, and of course, Rose's music room.

The music room was originally a second guest bedroom, but Aggie insisted that Rose needed a quiet place she could practice her music as much as she wanted. Rose usually kept the door leading from the music room to the hall locked as the room was connected to Rose's room via a Jack-and-Jill bathroom₂. The room was also soundproofed so if Rose felt the need to play something late at night she wouldn't wake the rest of the house.

The room was about the size of Rose's bedroom, so the baby grand piano fit comfortably in the corner. The seat in the bay window was covered in sheet music. There was a small table near the far wall where her violin case lay. Sheet music was pinned up on the walls and spread out on the table. Some of it was classical music; some of it was popular piano and violin pieces, and some of it Rose had tried writing herself. Right now, Rose felt like losing herself in a familiar piece, so she decided to play "The Storm Begins" by: Jennifer Haines on the piano. It was a beautiful piece in a gothic sort of way.

Rose was about to start playing something else when she felt her phone start to vibrate. _It must be Cammi;_ she thought as she fished her phone out of her pocket, _Lynn's class doesn't end for another twenty minutes._ A quick look at the caller ID confirmed her hunch.

"Hello, Cammi, how are things?"

"Hey, Maestro, I'm great. I was just at this really cool store. It's called _Second Time Around_. At first, I thought it was a used clothing store, but it was really an antique store. There was some really cool junk there. The place is like… ten minutes away from your house. I'm on my way over right now. Is your front door unlocked?" That was one of the things Rose liked about Cammi. She acted like she and Rose were sisters. She was also a firm believer in the 'what's mine is yours and what's yours is mine' rule.

"Does it matter? I gave you and Lynn keys," she said with a smile. Rose could hear wheels spinning in the background. "Cammi, are you wearing your helmet?"

"…maybe," _That would be a no_, Rose thought. "How do you even know I'm on my skateboard?" Rose sighed.

"Cammi, you know it's dangerous to ride without a helmet, especially when your concentration is split between talking on the phone and watching where you are going."

"Oh, come on, Rosie, you know me. What's the worst that could hap…?"

BANG! CRASH!

Rose stood up so fast she upturned the piano bench.

"Cammi! Cammi, what happened?! Are you alright?! Cammi, please answer." All Rose could hear through the phone was groaning and some vaguely familiar swearing before the line went dead.

**TMNTTMNTTMNT**

Bridget was only a few minutes away from the shop. She wasn't looking forward to the lecture April was undoubtedly planning, so she took the sidewalks instead of the rooftops. If she had known taking the sidewalks would cause her to get run over by a spazz on a skateboard, she would have taken the roofs.

"God damn it all! I just can't win today," she shouted as she pushed the offending body off her own. She didn't seem to be bleeding anywhere, but she could feel the bump forming where her head hit the sidewalk and her tailbone was probably bruised. Bridget touched her head tentatively and winced at the contact. "Great, that's gonna hurt like hell in the morning."

Bridget turned to look at the bozo that ran into her. The girl looked about her age. She had curly, golden-blonde hair with red highlights. It was hard to tell how long it was pulled back with a bunch of hair ties and bobby pins. Her outfit was very… green: an olive green denim jacket and olive green cargo pants that looked like they belonged to a boy. The pants legs were rolled up enough that Bridget could see the girl's rainbow socks. What really drew her eyes was the girl's converse. They were orange. Not just any orange either, they were neon highlighter orange. It almost hurt her eyes to look at them too long.

The girl sat up and Bridget could see a bright yellow shirt under the jacket. Her round face and freckles across her across her cheeks and nose gave her a child-like appearance. She was also using a pair of aviator goggles as a headband. _What a weird girl,_ she thought as honey brown eyes met her green.

"Hey, heh heh, sorry I ran into you," she said sheepishly, "I wasn't watching where I was going." Bridget snorted.

"Obviously," she said as she stood and dusted herself off, "by the way, why aren't you wearing a helmet? Are you trying to give yourself a concussion or something?" The blonde made a pouty face.

"No, I just like how the wind feels in my hair is all," she muttered. Bridget sighed and held out a hand to the klutz. The girl smiled and allowed herself to be helped up. "I'm Cammi, by the way," she said with the type of grin five year olds have, innocent and oblivious to the bad parts of the world.

"I'm Bridget," she said with a smirk. "So, you live around here or something? I've never seen you before." The blonde shook her head.

"No, I live a ways that-a-way," she said pointing the way Bridget had just come, "I was just coming back from this awesome antique store. It's called _Second Time Around_. Have you heard of it?" Bridget had to struggle not to laugh.

"Yeah, I live right above it. The owners are my foster parents." Cammi made and 'O' with her mouth and nodded.

"That's cool. I love looking at old stuff. I bet if they could talk, they'd have such cool stories to tell." She turns and spots her phone on the ground. "Oh, I've got to get going. I'm meeting a friend." She picks up her phone, sticks it in her pocket, and grabs her skateboard. "It was nice meeting you, Bridgey" She took off on her board before Bridget even had a chance to register the ridiculous nickname.

"Hey," she shouted after the hyperactive blonde, "It's Bridget, you SPAZ! And slow down!" The black-haired girl shook her head and chuckled in spite of herself. "What a nutcase," she said to herself as she started walking back to the Jones home, "Heaven help me if I ever willingly make friends with someone like that."

There was in fact a lecture from April waiting for Bridget when she got back, but it wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. As it turned out, it wasn't the free running or the fighting that upset her. Well… she was a little upset that Bridget got hurt, but that was more concern than anything else. April was more upset that Bridget hadn't told anyone she was running around the city for hours at a time. So, she was still allowed to free run; she just had to let someone know when she was going out.

Later that night, Bridget was sitting in the living room in her pajamas typing a new journal entry on her laptop and listening to her iPod. She saw April give her the signal to head off to bed. She nodded to let her guardian know she heard, quickly finished off the last sentence in her journal, and closed the laptop. She turned to the window to gaze out at the city when she saw something that made her do a double-take.

There were four people jumping the rooftops across the street. They were two far away to make out clearly, but it looked like they were wearing big backpacks. What was really amazing is that the weight didn't seem to be slowing them down any. It was almost awe-inspiring.

"What are you looking at, Bridget?" April asked from the kitchen.

"There are some crazy free-runners across the street; pretty good too." Had Bridget bothered to turn away from the window, she would have seen the red head tense. "I can't tell what they look like, but they have these bulky backpacks with them. Man, I hope I get as good as them some day." April let out a relieved sigh that went unnoticed by her ward.

"Alright, get to bed now. We have a big day of shopping tomorrow." The teen visibly deflated at the thought of spending the whole day in a shopping mall. April struggled not to laugh as her foster daughter trudged to her room. After hearing the door click shut, the redhead made a mental note to talk to the guys about playing ninja tag near the shop for a while.

Bridget carefully set her laptop and iPod on the desk before she grabbed one of the lighters off her dresser. This one was a solid chrome color and had a crucifix on the front. She smirked when she thought of how she came across it. One of her old foster homes was very religious and made her go to church every Sunday. She ended up making friends with one of the old priests there.

His name was Father Clyde. It never bothered him that Bridget wasn't particularly religious. Father Clyde used to smoke all the time, but he was funny as Hell. He really cared about people and he always listened to what Bridget had to say. He had even asked her if she had any suggestions on how to make his sermons more entertaining. When he found out she collected lighters, he gave her his saying it was about time he quit.

After staring at the small flame for a few minutes, she closed the lighter and put it back on the dresser. The Jones' were definitely one of her better foster homes so far. Casey was a bonehead, sure, but he was funny and he had a sense of justice that rivaled her own. He didn't get drunk (often) and he never hit April or herself. As intimidating as he looked, he had a loving heart and Bridget felt safe with him. And that was saying something.

April was… well… April actually reminded Bridget a lot of her own mother. She honestly cared, and that was a concept that both excited and terrified the motherless girl. On the one hand, it was nice to have someone worry about her all the time. Bridget could name several foster homes where she could have gotten hit by a bus and the people in charge of her wouldn't have bat an eye. On the other hand, when Bridget had to leave, which let's face it will happen because life sucks like that, it will be that much harder on the both of them.

The whole foster care system was a bit of a Catch-22. If you got stuck with a bad family, you were stuck until you could get shipped to the next one. If you were put with a good family, it was nice while you were with them, but it made leaving all worse. Either way, you were screwed.

Bridget quickly shook her head in an attempt to derail that particular train of thought. _Man,_ she thought as she turned off her lamp, _I really need to stop thinking about such heavy topics right before I go to bed._ The black haired girl soon drifted off to sleep and greeted with dreams about setting her foster care file on fire.

**TMNTTMNTTMNT**

About an hour later, Mr. and Mrs. Jones were getting ready for bed themselves. April let out a sigh and Casey knew something was up. He looked at his wife expectantly and waited for her to get her thoughts in order.

"Bridget saw the guys tonight." Casey's eyes widened in panic for a moment before she continued, "She didn't get a good look at them. She actually thought they were free runners like her, but it was still a really close call. Do you mind talking to them about it for me the next time you see them?"

"Yeah, Sure thing, Babe," he said putting his arm around her. April smiled as she remembered how she used to hate it when he called her Babe. After a while though, it grew on her. He was the only one allowed to use it though. She would have pounded the guys into next week if any of them used it, ninja training on not. She curled into her husband, suddenly needing his warmth.

"Casey," she said uncertainly.

"What is it, April?" He started stroking her hair in a comforting gesture.

"Do you think we're doing alright so far, I mean, with looking after Bridget?" Casey took a minute to consider the redhead's question. Then he gave a shrug.

"Yeah, I think she's pretty happy here so far. I mean, after all, how could she not like it here with your cooking?" April let out a laugh and the man smiled at having gotten his wife out of her funk.

"How do you know, though? I mean, she's like Raph in a lot of ways. If something is bothering her, she keeps it to herself until it fixes itself or it pushes her to her breaking point." Despite it only being a week, April had quickly become attached to the young black haired girl. She vaguely wondered if this is what motherhood was like.

"Well," the vigilante said in an unconcerned tone, "when I checkin up on her before we came in here, she was smiling in her sleep. Now, I ain't no psychologist, but I'm pretty sure kids don't smile in their sleep if something is buggin 'em. Now, I'm going to sleep. 'Nite, April."

"You're right," she whispered half to her husband and half to herself, "I guess they don't." Her fears alleviated, April Jones slipped into sleep and was greeted with sweet dreams of the patter of little feet running around the apartment.

**There's the second chapter. It is 11 pages, and so was the last chapter too. I added a bit of April/Casey fluff at the end. So the turtles were seen in this chapter, sort of. I figured since Bridget didn't get a good look at them, her mind would rationalize the sight of four human shaped figures jumping across rooftops at night.**

**A/N: 1) Imbolc is a holiday celebrated by Wiccans. It is a fire festival celebrated in the end of January or the beginning of February. It is also strongly associated with the Goddess Brighid. I'll give you three guesses as to why Aggie thought Bridge would want to come, and the first two don't count.**

**2) A Jack-and-Jill bathroom is a bathroom that connects two bedrooms. There are doors to both bedrooms that lock on both sides to ensure privacy.**

**There will be more Cammi in the next chapter, and I'll probably bring in the last OC. You are free to guess who Cammi will end up with and what element is left. I'm not sure if I'll have all four of the OC's meet in the next chapter or wait until the one after that. I guess it depends on what mood I'm in. It might be a while until my next update. I have a bunch of big projects in school I have to work on. I appreciate reviews because they help make my writing better.**


	4. The Free Spirit and the Bleeding Heart

**A/N: I do not own TMNT. If I did, the guys would have totally gotten girlfriends. I'm not exactly the most regular updater, so try to bear with me. Homework comes first after all. There will be some pairings, but I'll let you guys guess who ends up with whom. We will learn more about Cammi this chapter, and possibly the fourth OC who was briefly mentioned by name.**

**Chapter 3:** The Free Spirit and the Bleeding Heart

Cammi Peterson was up bright and early on Sunday morning. Normally, she loved sleeping in, but today was the last day of winter break and she fully intended to make the most of the free time she had left. Quietly, so she didn't wake up anyone else who was sleeping, she went downstairs to the kitchen and began making some pancakes.

Cammi's home was a three floor apartment that she had lived in since she was seven. The first floor was the living room, kitchen, and the master bedroom. The second floor was the other two bedrooms and the bathrooms. The third floor was the studio. Cammi did most of her art projects up there, and Lynn used it sometimes when she needed to fit some extra dance practice in.

Cammi was just flipping the pancakes onto a plate when Lynn trudged to the table. She glanced at the clock and knew it was too early to try to make any attempt at conversation with her brunette-haired friend. Despite her habit of being polite all the time, the girl was a cross between a zombie and an angry bear before she had her morning coffee. That wouldn't stop her from trying though.

The blonde at the stove snuck a glance at her friend as she got the extra strength coffee out and smirked. Brooklyn Kingsley, Lynn for short, had been raised to keep a pristine reputation at school and society in general. She was the class president, a star member of the gymnastics team, and rumor had it Julliard was offering her a pretty hefty ballet scholarship. All the teachers loved her and she was friendly with just about everyone.

Of course, that's just what she acted like at school. She really was polite and responsible and hard working, but outside the house, Lynn never let her hair down; literally and figuratively. The dark brown hair she always kept tightly tied back was tangled and frizzy from sleep and hung loosely around her shoulders. The thought that she was one of the few people who got to see this side of Lynn made Cammi smile.

"Morning, Lady Lynn," Cammi called over her shoulder as she flipped the last pancake onto a plate. "So glad you could grace the world with your presence. You got any big plans for today?"

"Shut up, Camilla," her best friend groaned, "It's too early in the morning for you to be this perky." Cammi scowled at the use of her full name, but chose to ignore it.

"Lynn, do you know what time Heidi got back from her date last night? I think I fell asleep before I heard her come in," she said as she set a large cup of coffee with three sugars and a plate of pancakes in front of her best friend. Lynn took a long drink from her mug before answering.

"It might have been some time around midnight or so. Why do you ask? Did you get any weird vibes when they left for the club?" her dark blue eyes flashed in concern. Cammi shook her head as she buttered her pancakes.

"No, Megan seemed really nice. Heidi just stayed out later than she usually did is all." Lynn nodded and started eating her breakfast.

Cammi had been living had been living with her godmother Heidi Delaney since she was seven years old. The two had known each other almost Cammi's whole life. Among the few memories she had of her parents, several consisted of them telling her that Heidi liked girls instead of boys and that there was nothing wrong with it. It wasn't until middle school that she found out there were some people who thought differently.

"So, Lynn, I was thinking we could call Rosie and then the three of us could all go ice skating in the park today. It's been almost a week since all three of us have done something together. What do you think?"

"It sounds like a great idea, Cam," Lynn said finishing her pancakes, "but wait until after nine to call Rose's house please. That way you don't have to worry about waking up Aggie or Rose's mom with the phone." Cam waved off her friend's concerns.

"Puh-lease, Lynn, you know as well as I do that Granny gets up at the butt-crack of dawn every day. And Rosie told me her mom came home early last night." Lynn shot the blonde a glare. "Okay, okay, I will wait until eight-thirty before I call. You know as well as I do Rosie always goes to bed early in the winter. It's like she hibernates or something." Lynn nodded, seemingly satisfied.

After breakfast, the two cleaned their dishes and set aside a plate for Heidi to eat once she woke up. Then they went to their respective rooms and got ready for the day. Lynn put on a white turtleneck with a light blue shirt with 3 quarter sleeves, dark blue jeans, and her white tennis shoes. She pulled her hair back in a ballerina bun and tied it with her lucky ribbon. The ribbon wasn't much. It was ice blue and frayed at the edges, but it was one of Lynn's most prized possessions.

Cammi dressed in her usual outfit with her yellow shirt, rainbow socks, and green denim. Her hair was longer than Lynn's going down her shoulder blades, but she always tied and pinned back so it wouldn't get in her way. She'd contemplated cutting in several times, but Heidi told her she looked just like her mom with long hair so she kept it. She grabbed her dad's old pair of aviator goggles from where they hung on the frame holding her parents wedding picture and wore them like a headband.

After calling and telling Rose to start getting ready, the pair began to walk to their best friend's house. Cammi and Lynn had been friends with Rose ever since sixth grade when she transferred to their school. Cammi smiled as she thought about the first time they met the quiet girl with silver eyes.

Cammi and Lynn ended up meeting Rose on their way to school the first day of middle school. The smaller girl was painfully shy and vaguely reminded the girls of a porcelain doll; pretty and very breakable. After talking to her the whole twenty minute walk to school, Cammi had proclaimed the silver-eyed girl their new friend. Rose had promptly burst into joyful hysterics over her good fortune while Cammi and Lynn gathered her in a tight hug and swore they would always be there for their lonely, little friend.

It had taken a lot of patience and hard work, but eventually Cammi and Lynn had been able to coax Rose out of her shell somewhat; at least around them anyway. The fact that all three of them shared a birthday was a major bonding point. These days the three were as thick as thieves. Sure, they all had friends besides each other. Lynn had the girls in her ballet troupe. Cammi had the kids from Art Club. Rose was even fairly friendly with some of the other kids in orchestra. But Cammi always felt the most comfortable, the most like herself, around Lynn and Rose, and she was pretty sure they felt the same way.

They reached Rose's townhouse just as she was stepping out the door. Cammi waved her arms to get her attention. Rose saw them and waved back shyly. She called a final goodbye to her mother and grandmother and walked down to meet her friend. Cammi greeted her friend with an enthusiastic bear hug causing Rose to giggle. Cammi was always told she gave the best hugs.

"Good morning, Rosie," Cammi said in a sing-song voice, "Are you ready to go ice skating?" Rose nodded and wriggled out of the blonde's embrace.

"It sounds like it will be fun. Good morning, Lynn, did you sleep well last night?" Lynn smiled wryly. Four years of being around the likes of Cammi and Rose was still as polite as the day they met. At least now she only stuttered when she talked to strangers or got upset.

"I slept great actually. Thanks for asking. Did anything interesting happen yesterday?" Rose smiled and her face lit up like it does at the Butterfly Garden at the Zoo.

"I think I might have made a new friend yesterday," Rose said, her voice filled with hope. Lynn blinked and Cammi nearly tripped and fell over. No, scratch that. She did fall over.

"Really?!" Cammi gasped; her eyes wide with happiness, "Oh that is so great! Isn't that great, Mother, our little Rose is growing up." Cammi's over dramatic antics had the other two clutching their sides with laughter.

"Jeez, Cam," Lynn wheezed, "you're such a ham." Once she got her breathing under control, she turned to Rose who was stifling the last of her giggles. "Seriously though, we really are happy that you're making friends, Rose. Is this person anyone we know?" Rose shook her head.

"I don't think so. She said she was in foster care, so I think she just moved here. She's starting at Carson tomorrow though. She seems nice."

"Cool," Cammi interjected, "so, how did you meet her? It's not like you to just walk up to people and start talking." That was when Rose got a funny look on her face. Cammi and Lynn had seen that look before. Rose always got it when she was debating telling someone that something bad happened to her. She didn't like people thinking she was keeping secrets, but she also didn't like burdening others with her problems.

"Rose," Lynn said in her 'mothering' tone of voice, "what happened yesterday?" Rose bit her bottom lip before she sighed and caved.

"W-well, w-when I was walking home yesterday, I k-kind of got a-am-ambushed by some P-Purple Dragons." Lynn and Cammi gasped. Rose continued before they could cut in. "S-She was the one tha-that saved me. Then she walked me home and we started talking. She was really nice to me. She gets along well with Granny too."

This had Cammi raising an eyebrow. It was unusual for Rose to let people meet Aggie so soon after meeting them herself. She was very self conscious about her grandmother's eccentric ways. Cammi and Lynn didn't even meet her until they'd known her for several months. _'Rosie must not have known Aggie was home,'_ Cammi concluded.

"Well," Cammi said, trying to defuse the tension, "you're safe now and that's all that matters. But uh… you never told us this girl's name." Rose blushed at her oversight.

"Her name is Bridget." Cammi choked on air and she imagined that if she had been drinking anything at the moment, she would have done a spit take.

"She doesn't happen to have short, black hair and green eyes, does she?" It couldn't be the same girl. Rose seemed surprised by Cammi's question.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Cammi's mind blanched for a second.

"Then she's the girl I plowed into yesterday on my skateboard," she exclaimed. Lynn face palmed at Cammi's statement. "She lives above that antique store I was telling you about yesterday, _Second Time Around_."

"Seriously, Cammi, what are we going to do with you?" Lynn groaned. Cammi gave a pout in reply which sent the other two girls into fits of giggles. "Seriously though, from what you guys have said about her, she sounds all right. We can keep an eye out for her in our classes and invite her to sit with us at lunch tomorrow if she wants." Cammi and Rose both raised an eyebrow at the statement.

"You mean you're not going to sit with Brian?" Rose asked cautiously. Cammi was much less subtle.

"Yeah, you're not going to ditch us to sit with '_Dearest Brian-boo'_," she said with a gag. Lynn had been dating Brian Matthews since the start of Junior year. He was a standard jock, Running Back on the football team with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a well off family. Cammi was very, **very** vocal about how she disapproved of their relationship; stating that no one could be that perfect and not be hiding something. Rose had no specific complaints about the boy but she had pointed out that he gave her an uneasy feeling.

"I am not going to even dignify that with a response," she said with a dignified air.

"All right," the blonde said nonchalantly, "but I'm taking your lack of a response as your way of saying I can saran-wrap his car for April Fools' Day this year."

"CAMMI!" she screeched. This caused all three girls to break into hysterics. Despite the girls' different personalities, they rarely ever stayed mad at each other for long if at all. Most people were surprised the three were as close as they were, given they had contrasting personality types. Cammi was extroverted and slightly eccentric with little regard for social norms. Lynn was more conventional and friendly but rarely let people in. Rose was painfully introverted and no doubt would have been a loner in high school had Cammi and Lynn not taken her under their wings.

On the way back home after their day out, the girls could barely stay standing they were laughing so hard. It had been one of those days a person wishes would never end. It was just the kind of day the three of them needed before they returned to the mind numbing monotony that was school.

After saying their goodbyes to Rose, the blonde and brunette walked home in companionable silence. As much as Cammi liked to talk, she cherished the fact that she could spend time with Lynn and not have to say a word. She and Lynn had been friends since Kindergarten. Looking back on it, it was a bit strange how the two had found each other to begin with.

Lynn came from a family of old money and wealthy businessmen, so it was an oddity in and of itself that she had been sent to a public school for her education. Cammi had been told Lynn's grandfather had made the decision in the first place. Anyway, it was the first day of school for both little girls, and the first thing Cammi notices when she walks in the room is the little brunette sitting ramrod straight in the corner of the room.

In a rush of some unexplainable feeling, Cammi had decided that girl would be her friend. The rest after that was history. It was almost the exact feeling that she had several years later when she decided to be friends with Rose as well. As she thought about it, she realized she got that feeling from that Bridget girl too. The only way Cammi could describe it was a surge of inherent rightness. Like a puzzle piece fitting into its proper place.

When the girls got home, Cammi said hi to Heidi and hurried up to the studio to work on her latest project. She'd been working on it for a few weeks now and had yet to show it to anyone. It was a painting based off a photograph she took in Central Park a few weeks previously. At first, she didn't know what to make of it. She still wasn't sure what she was going to do with the painting when she finished. After all, even she could admit a humanoid turtle with swords strapped to its back was a little odd.

**TMNTTMNTTMNT**

When Lynn was in the safety and privacy of her bedroom, she took out her bun and let her hair hang loose. The dark brown locks had a slight wave to them after being tied back all day. She quickly situated herself in her favorite chair, got her laptop out, and logged onto her IM chat room. She smiled when she saw her friend was also logged on.

**Icedancer16:** Hey, Tech, what's new?

**TechyTurtle:** Hi, Ice. Not much has been happening lately. How have things been with you?

Lynn had been instant messaging TechyTurtle, or Tech as she called him, for a few months now. It probably wasn't the smartest thing she had ever done, but they made it a point not to use any relevant names in their conversations. Tech was great to talk to when she needed to vent, and he had three brothers so he was never short of funny stories. She had originally wanted to use TT as his nickname, but apparently that reminded him too much of a superhero his younger brother was obsessed with.

**Icedancer16:** Things have been pretty good. I went ice skating with Breeze and Flower today. It was just what I needed before school starts back up tomorrow.

**TechyTurtle:** That sounds like a lot of fun.

**Icedancer16:** It was, especially when Breeze slipped and fell on her butt. I laughed so hard I almost cried. LOL

**TechyTurtle:** Honestly, sometimes when you talk about Breeze, I'd swear you were talking about my brother Orange.

Since they didn't use people or places real names, they had codenames for people they knew. Tech referred to each of his brothers by color. When Lynn had asked why, he simply replied it was the major color in the respective brother's wardrobe.

**Icedancer16:** I'm not sure if that's an insult or not. You have told me about some of Orange's "shining moments", remember.

**TechyTurtle:** I wouldn't necessarily say it's a bad thing. Sure, Orange can get my brother's and my nerves sometimes, but he comes through when we need him to. And nobody can make a pizza like Orange can. I swear his cooking is the only reason Red hasn't smothered him in his sleep yet.

Lynn had to laugh at that. Listening to Tech talk about his brothers always reminded her of when she spent time with Cammi and Rose. They were more like sisters than best friends in a lot of ways. Sometimes though, it just felt like their little tight-knit group just wasn't complete.

**Icedancer16:** Hey, Tech, could I get your advice on something?

She could almost hear him smirking through the computer screen. Lynn always got nervous asking others for help and he knew it.

**TechyTurtle:** You have to ask? What's the problem?

**Icedancer16:** It's not really a problem. It's just… you know how I told you Flower has trouble making friends? She told us today that she thinks she might have made friends with this girl she met yesterday. I'll call her…Flame. Breeze ran into her yesterday too. And I mean literally ran into her on her skateboard.

**TechyTurtle:** Okay… Is the girl trouble?

**Icedancer16:** I'm not sure. I haven't met her yet. They both seem to like her and we found out she's starting at our school tomorrow. We're going to invite her to sit with us at Lunch. The thing is… it's always just been us three: Flower, Breeze, and me. Flower doesn't make friends easy and I don't want to ruin this for her, but at the same time…

**TechyTurtle:** At the same time, you don't want to get replaced by this new girl.

**Icedancer16:** I'm not saying it will happen, but I don't want Flower or Breeze to feel like they have to choose between us if it turns out Flame and I can't stand each other.

**TechyTurtle:** Don't worry, Ice. After all, you said so yourself you haven't even met Flame yet. For all you know, you could end up being the one who gets along best with her.

Lynn smiled. One thing she loved about Tech was he was such an optimist.

**Icedancer16:** I suppose you could speak from experience on that subject. Your brothers are all so different from you, but you guys are still so close.

**TechyTurtle:** Believe me, it doesn't always feel like that. I can't count the number of headaches Orange has given us all when he starts to torment Red. And when Red and Blue get on each other's cases, it's like World War III was just declared or something.

**Icedancer16:** Aren't you ever worried that one of them might take it too far one day and do something they regret?

**TechyTurtle:** Sometimes, but Red will usually storm out before something unforgivable is said or done and if he doesn't, Father will break it up.

The two talked for another hour or so before Tech said it was almost time for "family time" as he called it and signed off. In all honesty, Lynn was just the tiniest bit jealous of how close Tech was with his family. There wasn't a single living person in Lynn's family that she could stand to be around for more than a few minutes. She had actually all but disowned her family and moved out when she was fourteen. The paperwork required to emancipate her had been an absolute nightmare but ultimately worth it. After Lynn had moved in with Heidi and Cammi, she was happier than she had been in years.

Lynn had never been entirely sure why she had originally become friends with Cammi all those years ago. It hadn't been to upset her family, although that was a definite perk. It wasn't because they had a lot in common because they didn't. When Lynn really thought about it though, the best reason she could think of stemmed back to the first time Lynn had gone to Cammi's house for a play date. Something about being with Cammi's family just made her feel like… like she had come home. And that was a feeling Lynn never wanted to give up.

Lynn had never felt that comfortable with any friend she had made since then, except for Rose. Meeting Rose had been an unexpected, but nevertheless happy, surprise for her. In the moment they pulled the smaller girl into that first group hug back in middle school, Lynn got that same feeling of coming home. It was like a hole she never knew was there had just been filled inside her.

In the last few months though, Lynn was becoming aware of a new hole. Something, or possibly someone, was missing. As nervous as she was of the thought of someone taking her family away from her was, Lynn couldn't help but feel a warm calm spread through her at the thought of meeting the mysterious Bridget tomorrow. The feeling lasted the rest of the evening and as she settled down into bed, she couldn't help but smile.

'_Maybe Tech will be right about this Bridget girl,'_ she thought as she drifted off, _'We might just end up as the best of friends.'_

**A/N: Here's the third chapter. I'm sorry it's been so long since I last updated. My grades kind of tanked towards the end of last semester and my parents threatened to take away my car, phone, and internet if I didn't get them back up. I haven't had a lot of time to write since then.**

**I finally introduced the last OC properly. If you can't guess her connection with the Turtles, I don't know what to say because I couldn't have made it anymore obvious without ruining the integrity of the story. I also added in how Rose was introduced to the group. Remember the Spirit people I introduced back in the prologue. Pay attention to them. They will be important later.**

**Also, if you got confused about some of the seemingly inconsequential background information I provided, fear not, for it is simply the groundwork for some epic character development down the road.**

**Next thing: this came to my attention in a review. The girls might seem like female versions of the Turtles, but that's only what they are like on the surface. I plan to give my characters some hidden depths. If you want to take a guess at what they might be, go back to the prologue. Some of the qualities of the Spirit people will make an appearance in the girls' personalities that I think will offer some nice contrasts to their Turtle counterparts. Because it's not opposite personalities that attract, it's complimentary personalities.**

**Last: I don't know when I'll get the next chapter out, but I will try to work on it when I can. I've got my high school graduation and finals coming up in the next month or so, so I can't promise anything. This summer will be pretty busy too, but I will do my best to get another chapter out before the fall for sure. I welcome reviews because they help make me a better writer.**


	5. New School and New Friends?

**A/N: I do not own TMNT. If I did, the guys would have totally gotten girlfriends. I'm not exactly the most regular updater, so try to bear with me. Homework comes first after all. There will be some pairings, but I'll let you guys guess who ends up with whom. This chapter will have more Bridget than the last one did, and Bridget and Lynn will finally meet each other.**

**Chapter 4:** New School and New Friends?

If there was one thing that Bridget understood about people, it was that first impressions matter. People will say they don't, but no matter how well someone gets to know a person, they always have that first image floating around in their heads. It shows that, no matter how contrary the person act from that point forward, the way they were in that first impression is still a part of them no matter how small.

It was these thoughts that ultimately prompted Bridget to ask Casey to give her a ride to school on her first day. Nothing says 'not to be messed with' more thoroughly than riding up to the front of the school on the back of dangerously beautiful motorcycle with an admittedly intimidating looking man driving. The sight of her classmates' widened eyes and slightly slackened jaws was enough to put a very smug grin on the black haired pixie's face. She thanked Casey for the ride and sauntered in with her new backpack over her shoulder.

Shopping with April the day before had not been as horrible as Bridget imagined it would be; although she gathered it had been some time since her red-headed foster mother had actually been shopping with another female. They mostly stuck to getting school supplies: pencils, pens, notebooks, etc. But after finding out the bottom of Bridget's old backpack was patched with duct tape, April had insisted on buying her charge a new one. After twenty minutes of looking at backpacks that Bridget was sure the store would be better off burning, she finally found one she liked. It was roomy, had plenty of pockets and compartments to hold her stuff, and it was in a nice black and red plaid design.

Even though Social Services had already registered her at Carson High School, there were still several, in Bridget's opinion tedious, things she had to do as a student joining in the middle of the year. First, she had to meet the Assistant Principle Mr. Gibbs, which wasn't so bad. AP's usually just gave her a lecture about how they wouldn't tolerate her 'troublemaking ways' in 'their school', but Mr. Gibbs was pretty cool. The first thing he said to her when she sat down was…

"Don't get too comfortable, kid. I really don't want to see you in here too often."

After talking with the AP, Bridget had to go get her schedule from Dr. Morse, the guidance counselor. She was all right if a little chatty. Dr. Morse gave Bridget her class schedule, her books, gym uniform, a school map, and some things she needed to have April sign. By the time it was all said and done, it was already ten minutes into first period. The first class the black haired girl had was Honors English with Mrs. Ready. Hey, just because she got in trouble sometimes didn't mean she wasn't smart.

It wasn't until Bridget walked into her classroom that she remembered why she hated changing schools so much. There it was… the awkward silence where the whole class stares at you and wonders just who the heck you are. She quickly schooled her features into a mask of boredom and silently handed the note Dr. Morse gave her to Mrs. Ready. After reading it, the English teacher cleared her throat to get the students' attention.

"Class, we have a new student joining us today. This is Bridget Youngblood and she will be with us for the rest of the semester. Bridget, do you have anything you'd like to tell the class about yourself?" When a person is asked that particular question, they would usually answer with something along the lines of where they lived last, or what they like to do in their free time. After being in so many different schools, Bridget had learned it was much more fun to say something completely outrageous and watch her classmates' reactions.

"Um… I can castrate a bull with my bare hands. Is there a seating chart, or can I just pick an empty seat?" The black haired girl held back a smirk as every guy in the room unconsciously brought their legs together. And she could already imagine the rumors that would be spreading about her by lunch. Mrs. Ready got over her shock fairly quickly and told her she could pick an empty seat. As she walked back, she spotted a very familiar pair of silver eyes and made a beeline for the chair next to her.

Rose could only stare at the black haired girl with wide eyes. Said girl walked over with what Cammi had once described as a shit eating grin plastered on her face. After she sat down, the teacher continued with the lesson. It took a few more minutes for Rose to work up the nerve to ask the question that was on her mind.

"Br-Bridget," Bridget acknowledged the brunette with a nod of the head but her eyes didn't leave the board, "can you uh… r-really c-ca-cas-neuter a bull with you bare hands?" It took great effort on Bridget's part to swallow her laugh.

"Oh, Hell no," she said turning to the smaller girl this time. She took a quick look around to see if anyone was listening and leaned in close like she was about to share a secret. "I just said something outrageous to see how many rumors about me will be floating around by the end of the day." Then she dissolved into a fit of quiet snickers. Rose could only shake her head at the girl's antics. Cammi would get a kick out of something like that.

The rest of the class passed pretty much without major incident. Despite her appearance and attitude, Bridget was a surprisingly dedicated student. The class was starting the semester by reading The Wizard of Oz. It turns out Bridget had already read it and had loudly expressed her dislike for the book. When Mrs. Ready asked her why, the whole class was surprised when the black haired girl said it was a poorly veiled rant by an embittered Socialist farmer trying to convince the United States to switch to a silver standard instead of the gold standard the country was using at the time₁. She still agreed to read the book, but stated that it would be difficult for her to find anything positive to say about it. With all the surprises, Rose completely forgot to ask Bridget to sit with her and the others at lunch.

Bridget's next class wasn't nearly as eventful. Thankfully her Honors Social Studies teacher Mr. Gates didn't make her introduce herself to the class; only told her to find a seat and let her know what times he was available for tutoring if she needed it. She found a seat near the windows and could honestly say she was surprised when a grinning girl in familiar green denim sat down next to her.

"Hey, Bridgey, remember me? It's Cammi. We met the other day." Bridget stared at the other girl for a moment before the nickname once again registered in her head.

"My name is Bridget, you airhead, not Bridgey. Quit calling me that," she growled. Cammi merely giggled.

"My friends and I wanted to know if you wanted to sit with us at lunch today." Bridget must have had a look on her face akin to horror because Cammi quickly continued, "Don't worry. Neither of them is like me. And you already met Rose before school started." That got the black haired girl's attention.

"Long brown hair in a braid, silver-grey eyes, stutters when she talks; that Rose?" The blonde nodded vigorously. "All right, I'll give it a shot." Cammi broke into that five year old grin again and pulled the taller girl into a hug. Bridget yelped and lightly smacked her in the back of the head. "Don't do that again," she scolded. Cammi agreed but the black haired girl doubted that would be the last time she was forcibly hugged.

As the class period ended, Cammi caught Bridget before she could leave the classroom and asked her what class she had next.

"I've got gym next, why?"

"Great," Cammi said cheerfully, "Lynn has that class next too. She's the only other one who sits with us. Just look for the girl with dark blue eyes and dark brown hair tied back in a ballerina bun with a light blue ribbon." Bridget nodded and headed off to gym.

"I don't know how things were run at your old school, but at Carson, we do things a little differently," Coach Winchester explained. "The students that participate in school sports' teams spend the hour training or practicing with their team. At the beginning of each semester, the rest of the students pick a unit to join. After you pick one, you stick with it for the rest of the semester. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are spent doing your unit activity. Tuesdays and Thursdays are traditional fitness and group sports days. There are four units to choose from: running the track, gymnastics, dance, and the weight room. Since the semester just started, we'll just be having everyone pick their units out, so don't bother changing. Find an empty locker, stow your stuff, and head to the gym."

When Bridget got to the gym, she saw the kids there were all grouped around tables at the back of the room. Signs were hung above the tables stating which activity they were four. She took a moment to see who was signing up for what. The people signing up for the weight room were almost all boys; probably jocks or guys who wanted to look cool. The ones signing up to run the track was mixed group; most likely anyone who didn't fit in with the other groups. The gymnastics table was almost all girls; most were probably cheerleaders who needed to learn that stuff. The dance table didn't have nearly as many sign ups as the other three but seemed fairly proportioned between boys and girls. Bridget quickly made a beeline for the dance table.

While it didn't exactly provide the same rush as free running, Bridget greatly enjoyed the burn an intense dance routine created in her limbs. When she got to the table, she bumped hands with a girl reaching for the same pen. She looked up to apologize and noticed the same features Cammi told her to watch for.

"You're Lynn right?" the girl in question raised a suspicious eyebrow, "Cammi's friend? She told me what you looked like. I'm Bridget." Lynn gave a rather cautious smile, but shook Bridget's hand none-the-less.

"You're taking dance?" she asked. Bridget nodded to the brunette. "I'll be honest. From Rose and Cammi's descriptions of you, short as they were, I wouldn't have guessed it was an interest of yours." The black haired girl merely shrugged and put her name down on the sign up list.

"It's a hobby, and I don't get around to it as much as I like." Lynn nodded and put her own name on the list.

"I usually practice at a studio with my dance troupe after school. I was in gymnastics last semester, but I got tired of the cheerleaders trying to get me to join the squad." Bridget gave a sly grin.

"I'll be honest. I'm not sure I could bring myself to talk to you if you were a cheerleader. They kind of girls who usually end up in that group rarely get along with me." The brunette raised an eyebrow, but smiled anyway.

"Cammi can't stand them either. Here's a heads up though. You see that girl over there?" she asked pointing at the gymnastics table. Bridget craned her head to follow the other girl's line of sight.

"You mean the bottle blonde with the fairly obvious boob job?" Lynn nodded. "Let me guess… Queen Bee?"

"It's mostly all in her head, but she does have influence over the cheerleading squad and most of the varsity sports players. Her family has quite a few zeros in their bank account," she stated in a matter of-fact way. Bridget scrunched her face in disgust.

"I hate people like that." Lynn cast a sidelong glance at the new student.

"What, people with money?" The black haired girl shook her head.

"No, people who think having money makes them better than everyone else." The brunette nodded in understanding.

"By the way, thanks…," Bridget looked questioningly at the other girl, "for what you did for Rose the other day. It may not seem like it, but it meant a lot to all three of us." The green eyed girl rubbed the back of her head in slight embarrassment.

"It was nothing, really. I mean, I couldn't let those Purple Dragon punks…"

"I didn't mean saving her from those creeps, although that is part of it," the black haired pixie shot another questioning glance at the girl. Lynn gave the new girl a smile, a real smile, "Rose is a very shy girl, and she doesn't open up to others easily. For her to let you into her home and meet a member of her family, however unintentional it may have been, that would have been a big risk for her. So… thank you for accepting her." Understanding dawned on the green eyed girl's features before she returned the blue eyed girl's smile.

"Miss Lynn, I believe this might be the start of a beautiful friendship."

"I think you might correct, Miss Bridget." Bridget's smile quickly turned into a smirk.

"But I swear to whatever God you believe in, if you try to call me Bridgey like that airhead Cammi does, I will kick your ass." Lynn surprised her new friend by returning the smirk full force.

"You can try." Bridget could tell there was more to this girl than meets the eye. "Also, what's this I've been hearing about the new girl being a ball crushing sociopath?" Bridget couldn't help but break into hysterical laughter at her friend's question.

'_I think I'm really going to like it here.'_

**TMNTTMNTTMNT**

So far, Bridget's first day was going much better than she had anticipated. She couldn't remember the last time she'd made friends this fast. Usually it would be a few days before anyone tried talking to her, if only to find out if whatever ridiculous rumors about her were true or not. The cynical part of her brain was telling her it had to be too good to be true, but was promptly ignored. It might come back to bite her in the ass later, but things finally seemed to be going her way and she intended to enjoy it while it lasted.

After getting her lunch from the cafeteria line (she was positive by now that the mystery meat was toxic in EVERY school in America), it didn't take her very long to notice the hyperactive blonde trying to get her attention in a very conspicuous fashion. She raised an eyebrow at the spectacle but walked over to the table nonetheless.

"Hey, Bridge," Cammi said as Bridget sat down next to her. Lynn smiled and nodded in greeting from across the table as she was eating. The black haired girl looked around the table.

"Aren't we short one?" Rose was nowhere in sight. Cammi waved her hand dismissively.

"Rosie has Orchestra right before this and she always stays a few minutes after the bell to talk to Dr. Bones. Plus her classroom is on the other side of the building so she's always the last one here."

"Dr… Bones?" Bridget half asked. The other two nodded.

"He teaches the music classes," Lynn answered, "He started teaching here after he retired from conducting the New York Symphony. He considers teaching a hobby."

"Yeah," Cammi butted in, "the guy is almost ninety but he sure doesn't act like it. I'm pretty sure he still composes in his free time. He's one of Rosie's favorite teachers. Speaking of teachers let me see your schedule. I want to know who you have." Bridget took her schedule out of her pocket and handed it to the blonde. She looked at it for a minute before letting out a depressing groan.

"What's with you?" the black haired girl asked only mildly concerned.

"You and I only have Civics together," she pouted. Bridget shared an amused glance with the brunette across from her. "I'll only get to see you in the morning."

"That's a real shame," the green eyed girl said; not sounding upset in the slightest. There was certainly something endearing about Cammi, but Bridget was certain she'd murder the blonde if she had to deal with prolonged exposure. Lynn took the schedule from Cammi and quickly skimmed it.

"From the looks of things, you won't see either of us after Lunch, but you do have Chemistry with Rose later." As if on cue, Rose came up to the table. She said her hellos, dropped her bags in the seat next to Lynn, and hurried off to the lunch line. Bridget's eyes couldn't help but stray to the smaller girl as if she was worried the small brunette would get trampled or something on the way to the lunch line. She noticed that her new friends seemed to share in her protective feelings. Neither one took their eyes off Rose until she reached the line and gave a shy wave back to the table.

"So," Bridget said in an effort to break the silence that had formed, "care to give me a run down on my teachers; which ones to avoid ticking off and all that." The blonde and brunette shared a look then agreed.

Mrs. Ready was, for all intents and purposes, an average teacher. As long as you did the work and didn't cause trouble, she was fairly easy to get along with. She was a bit of a stickler for spelling and grammar, and she always tried to encourage critical thinking among her students.

There were two social studies teachers at Carson High: Mr. Gates and Mrs. Cutty. Mr. Gates was a history fanatic who had a habit of going into much heavier detail over an event than the book covered. He was well liked among the honor students as he sometimes verbally put his rowdier students (bullies) in their place when he thought they were out of line.

Mrs. Cutty used to be called Ms. Nico before she got married the previous year. While not as outwardly expressive as Mr. Gates in her love of history, it was clear she thought it an important subject. She was known for stressing the importance of learning from the past so as not to repeat the same mistakes. And despite a rather morbid sense of humor, she was a great teacher to go to when you needed to talk about something non-school related.

Coach Winchester was pretty much an average gym teacher except for the fact that he didn't give jocks special treatment. If anything, he held them to a higher moral standard than the rest of the student body. He didn't like slackers and was generally respected as a fair man.

Since Bridget and Lynn signed up for the dance unit, they had Mrs. Muto as their second teacher. She was a naturalized citizen who had emigrated over from Japan with her husband. She was a tough but fair instructor who believed excellence could be obtained through dedication and hard work.

Ms. Rockbell taught the math classes. She was generally accepted as a good teacher and a friendly and patient woman. That being said, you did not want to be the unfortunate fool who actually made her lose her temper. Rumor had it that she hid a wrench in her desk for just such occasions.

There were also two chemistry teachers in the school: Mr. West and Mr. Allen. Both had very similar teaching styles and temperament. In fact, the two were related; Mr. West being the nephew of Mr. Allen. It was Mr. West's first year teaching and word was he planned to take over for Mr. Allen next year who had gotten an offer to teach at another school.

Neither girl could tell Bridget anything about her last teacher Mr. Alvers as they had never taken shop. They did tell her about their teachers though. Cammi took art and cooking instead of gym so she had some different teachers. Her art teacher was Mrs. Stone, but she had all her students call her by her maiden name Ms. Jinx simply because being called Mrs. Stone reminded her of her mother-in-law. She was apparently the one who gave Cammi the idea to get highlights; Mrs. Stone apparently had pink highlights.

Cammi's cooking teacher Mr. Baratie was apparently quite a character. Although he was a good teacher, everyone was pretty sure he favored the female students. The fact that a female student had never received so much as a warning in his class while he had actually literally kicked some male students out for causing a fire only served as further evidence to the fact. Students who had older siblings said that before he got married, he would shamelessly flirt with all the female staff. Despite all that though, he was an excellent teacher and one of Cammi's favorites.

Rose was the only other one who had any separate teachers. Besides Orchestra, she also took anatomy with Mr. Logan. He was an excellent teacher who made an effort to get to know all the students, even if he didn't have them in his class. Despite having never been in his class, both girls could testify to his good character.

By the time they were done explaining, Rose had gotten through the lunch line and was heading back over. When she sat down, a strange sensation fell over all four girls. It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, and all but one of them had felt it before. The feeling could only be described as a surge of inherent rightness and while Cammi, Lynn, and even Rose had all felt it before when they met each other, it had never been this strong. It was like the last puzzle piece had been put into place and the picture could finally be seen in all its glory. And for the three already close friends, that feeling was nothing short of beautiful.

Bridget on the other hand was, though she would never admit it, utterly terrified by this feeling. In her time in foster care she had learned many things, but perhaps the thing she considered most important was that the good times never lasted. The good families would eventually give her up. The friends she made at her past schools would eventually move on after she got transferred. All of those things were temporary, so it was best not to get too attached or it would only hurt more in the end. It didn't matter how wonderful these… these feelings felt because eventually she would have to leave them behind.

But at the same time, she had never felt so right around anyone in her life. The closest she could think of was with her birth mother and that had been over six years ago. She knew this was probably a mistake, but for Pete's sake she was only human. She wanted this feeling. She wanted to belong somewhere. So for now, she would enjoy this friendship while it lasted. But she had to be careful. She couldn't let them too close. Because she just knew that if she did, leaving them would be impossible.

**A/N: There's the fourth chapter. I got it done a lot faster than I thought I would. Now, you may or may not have noticed that the names of the school staff sounded familiar. Well, I didn't feel like coming up with names and personalities for all the teachers, so except for the English teacher and the guidance councilor, I borrowed characters from other media sources. I like to think I left enough hints so here is a challenge for my readers. The one with the most correct guesses for which characters I based the staff off of will get a special shout out in the next chapter.**

**1) I didn't make that up about the Wizard of Oz. I learned about it in my US History class in High School. The guy who wrote it really was part of the Socialist party and the whole book is filled with symbolism for pro-silver. There has been a lot of debate over the years for whether the symbolism was intentional or not. That isn't really my opinion of the book though.**

**I think I'm like one or two chapters away from formally bringing the Turtles into the story. I want to get the ball rolling on a few things before I alter the girls' perception of reality and humanity for all time.**

**Also, I didn't really get a whole lot of reviews for the last chapter (read: none). I like getting reviews. I feel like feedback can help stimulate the creative process and generate new ideas. So even though I'm not entirely sure when I'll be able to get another chapter out, because I have finally reached the busy part of my summer where I just won't be near a computer that often, I will not put out another chapter until I have at least ten reviews for this chapter. They don't even have to be long. Just a simple 'I like it' or 'it needs work' will do.**


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